


In Bloom

by 3amepiphany



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: Flower Shop/Mortuary AU, M/M, Mortuary AU, Mortuary/Flower Shop AU, flower shop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-09
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-11-29 23:39:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11451465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3amepiphany/pseuds/3amepiphany
Summary: Asclepias curassavica often finds a home in many Gothic gardens despite its sunny disposition.For Iggycat95.





	In Bloom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Iggycat95](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iggycat95/gifts).



> Look at all of these plants and tell me that Hater and Peepers' garden center wouldn't specialize in this sort of thing, i dare you: http://www.sheknows.com/home-and-gardening/articles/1050547/grow-a-gothic-garden

At the counter, Peepers took his time going over the month’s invoice with Sylvia, line by excruciating line. She endured it with a straight face, and when he had finished, handing her the finalized copy and offering her a refill on the water before she left, she thanked him for his diligent work and asked if she could place a special order. Something personal.

“It’s Wander’s birthday,” she added quickly, and Hater looked around the small citrus tree sapling he was repotting at the workstation by the west end of the greenhouse. Peepers looked down the way at him, and Sylvia’s gaze followed. She waved. He gave her a solemn nod.

“Today?” Peepers asked. He hopped down from the bench he kept at the counter and came out from behind it. “Are you looking for something living? Or something cut and arranged?” He realized how awkward that sounded and apologized. She laughed, though, and said she’d like something potted and alive, something he could tend to. Peepers nodded, and then squinted as he looked around the greenhouse, eyeing all of their stock that would thrive in an office or home environment. And there were plenty. Hater finished his work carefully but remained very obviously interested in the sale happening as Peepers took her around the shop and suggested succulents of all sorts, delicate and hardy ferns, or perhaps, their specialty at The Wardian Case: a small terrarium for a orchid and some violets, or a planted scene she could pick a few different begonias or mosses for.

She made an obvious show of considering each one carefully, and of having a bit of trouble deciding.

Peepers coughed.

Hater hefted a pot up onto the work table, and then ducked down beneath the workstation countertop to look for his extra stash of mesh and the last of a bag of gravel he had been using the day before. 

Peepers cleared his throat, loudly.

Grabbing the bag and a square of crumpled landscaping mesh, he knelt there for a moment, hemming and hawing to himself. He wondered if he could make an escape out back to grab the big pothos he had been putting off repotting. But then he heard them walking over, so he stood up, and said, “Did Peeps get your invoice all settled?”

“He sure did.”

“Sylvia needs some help with a personal purchase, sir. It’s Wander’s birthday. Today,” his associate said very pointedly.

“I see,” he said, placing the felted mesh into the bottom of the pot carefully before dumping the gravel in, unceremoniously. “Bouquet?”  
“Well,” Syl said, “you guys do such a wonderful job with those but I was more or less looking to get him something to tend. And, well, I mean, not to knock your guys’ aesthetic here but I was kind of hoping for something colorful, like the bouquets you arrange for us. Something not as… Black and… uh…”

“Romantic?” Hater suggested.

“Is that the word for it?” she asked. Peepers looked like he was stifling a laugh.

“The thing is, he mentioned that he’d like to put some flowers out front of the doorway to the mortuary. The landscaping is fine! It’s fine, I know you really enjoy coming over yourself and doing that for us,” she said, waving her hands a bit. “It’s just like. I don’t think black is… what we need out there. You know?”

Hater nodded. “We get most of our floral arrangement stuff in on a truck, like other flower shops, unfortunately. I do have some perennials in, though. Bloodflowers.”

She stared at him.

“You can call them milkweeds. Not as Romantic, but probably nicer when talking to patrons about them.”

“Yeah, that’s super Gothic.”

“I mean, I know it sounds heavy. But bloodflowers at the door of a mortuary wouldn’t just speak to my soul, but to his.”

“Well, when your soul is heavy as your eyeliner,” she said, looking around again.

Peepers piped up. “You know, it’s not a terrible idea. I can actually show them to you.”

And with that, Hater thought he was off the hook. He repotted the other sapling he had, and sort of meandered around waiting for Peepers to return before he could go out back and grab that Pothos. As he turned some of the little glass terrariums along the window so they could get a little more of that early morning sun evenly, he looked through the trees to the edge of their parking lot and studied the hedges there. The Wardian Case was also pretty well-known for their landscaping services; Hater’s dedicated team of Watchdogs were practically an army and Peepers’ keen eye for detail and design were his absolute pride; but his absolute joy was the routine he had on every other Saturday. This was a job that he worked on himself, sometimes with the aid of a few Watchdogs when a bigger cleanup was needed - doing the landscaping for the mortuary.

With both businesses on either side of a small natural canyon that intersected under the streets through this portion of the town, he’d taken the liberty of planting hedges on either side. He would come early to the shop, trim the hedges along their parking lot, and then shoulder his bag of gear and walk over to go tend the other side, and the lawn and other shrubs there. And because Wander would arrive earlier than Sylvia on Saturdays (she liked to sleep in, he’d said, so he’d let her), he’d bring Hater a coffee from the cafe down by the traffic light and try to have some conversation with him for a little bit before going inside.

Hater, though not being much of a conversationalist, or someone who cared to get up as early as this on any morning, felt it was worth it.

There was something about Wander that he couldn’t quite place a finger on, at first, once the mortuary opened, but over time he came to realize that being as sunshiney a person as Wander was, doing the job he did, was Goth as heck. Then for a while, Hater struggled with trying to figure out if his frustration at this was due to jealousy or due to attraction. Now, here he was, picking out flowers for the guy’s birthday. Gross.

But cool, kind of. Now he knew when Wanders’ birthday was, and he didn’t even have to ask. Wander learned his early on and it always felt a little awkward getting a small gift from him and he was very shy about returning the favor.

This way he could do that without much fanfare.

For bystanders like Sylvia and Peepers this all was really very entertaining, and they had been trying to encourage this to grow for quite some time.

So when Sylvia said yes to the bloodflowers as Peepers walked her back to the register, Hater was pleased, and stepped outside for a moment to come back with the pothos bouncing in his arms, and a big bag of fresh peat to put it in. But when Peepers handed him the order slip, he ground his teeth together.

She wanted these hand delivered and requested that Hater do it, especially, since their property was mostly under his green thumb.

“But.”

Peepers blinked at him. “Because you know exactly what planters to put there, and I agree with your choice already.”

“Do you though?”

“Sir.”

Hater groaned.

“She’s asking for it to be delivered by 4:30 so that gives you plenty of time to roll them down there and get them set up and get the milkweed planted, and to wish him a happy birthday too. You know how I sold her on them, sir?”

Hater sighed. “How, Peepers?”

“I told her they attract butterflies. Wander loves butterflies.”

Hater crumpled the order form a bit. “...Fine. Fine, I’ll do it, fine. I should just get the crew to do this but I’ll do it. Fine. Peepers, I hate you.”

“You can turn on some Antidote or Haubaus in the shop today if you like, sir. It’s okay..”

“Thank you, Peepers.”

What both Sylvia and Peepers had neglected to mention to him was that Wander was ending his day at 4:00. He’d gone in early to finish a task. So when the main entrance to the building opened just as Hater was setting down the pots of plants he’d carried over, and Wander stepped out, putting on that big old wide-brimmed, doofy and very un-mortician-ly hat of his, there was nearly a good solid minute of awkward staring.

And then Wander smiled at him. “Hey, there.”

“Uh.” The panic was real. Hater straightened his back and dusted his gloves off, not sure if he should remove them and shake Wander’s hand, or not, finally settling for gesturing at the planters finally. “These,” he said.

“Oh! Sure, Sylvia said that she was gonna get us a couple of new statues from y’all. When she said she went with some planters, though, I was a bit worried. But then she said y’all threw in the butterfly flowers for free, I thought, well, gee. That’ll be really nice for people comin’ on in to see us. Maybe put a smile on their faces.”

“Sh-she, uh. She said it was your birthday,,” Hater mumbled, feeling like his mouth was full of the gravel he used in the planters, which he was very proud of picking out.

“My, these sure are nice. Those flowers are mighty pretty, too.”

“I… I picked those out for you. Syl said black was a bit much but. You know. We had these. I think they’re alright.” Hater stood there in his stained and torn jeans, and his playing with his gloves and the gardening tools on his belt a bit.

Wander knelt down in the grass to smell the tiny little red and yellow blossoms. “Milkweed.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Bloodflowers, I think they’re also called.”

“Yeah.”

“I like that. It’s very romantic in a way. Romantic with a capital R, too, as you do.” He carefully brushed through some of the flowers to look at the stems and leaves, that big grin on his face. “Very much as you do. Knowin’ these are from you that means a lot, Hater.”

“Happy birthday,” Hater sputtered after a few quiet beats.

“Well thank you!” Wander said, sitting back and putting a hand up to keep his hat on his head. He gestured at the potting supplies. “Say. Can I help you here? I’m not doin’ anything with this early afternoon off and I don’t mind lendin’ a hand.” Immediately there was a bit of a silly shuffling dance as Hater fished a spare pair of gloves out from a pocket on his belt, and while they were comically big on Wander, it certainly did get an equally big laugh out of the both of them.

From the window in the front office, Sylvia watched them, speaking to Peepers over the phone in a hushed, but definitely excited tone.


End file.
